Take Back Your Memories
by Fenris's Slytherin Princess
Summary: Hermione had given up; being disallowed to go back to Hogwarts ruined her. But when a madman with a box drops into her toilet, will she see sense?
1. The Row, The Box and The Bathroom

Hermione wept. Her frizzy hair was put into a disobeying ponytail, and her nails were painted a relaxing pink. She looked around her muggle bedroom, longing for the grasp of Ron's firm hands and Harry's awkward words. Hell, Hermione missed even Draco. Her mind flashed back to a month earlier to her tear sodden day.

"No, Hermione." Her mother, Mrs Granger, said firmly, her hands grasping a coffee mug. Dr Granger, Hermione's father was shaking his head behind his daughter. His relaxing voice came suddenly.  
"Hermione, dear, you can't go back. It's too dangerous." He rested his hand on his daughter's shoulder and sighed. Both Dr and Mrs Granger were refusing to let Hermione go back to Hogwarts for her eighth year. Hermione's face was screwed up in anger, her wand in her bundled fist.  
"No! It's safe! We made it safe!" Blotches of red spread across her cheeks. "I'll Apparate then! You can't stop me!"  
"Nobody can Apparate onto Hogwart's grounds." Mrs Granger said sarcastically.  
"You don't belong in their world, Mione." Dr Granger tried to soothe his fuming daughter.  
"I'm a witch! I belong in their world- my world- just as much as Harry and Ron!" Tears started leaking down her face.  
"Do not argue with me!" Mrs Granger looked stern, and placed her mug down.  
"I- Oh fine!" Hermione threw her arms up in the air, and stomped to her bedroom. Angrily, she picked up Hogwarts, A History, and began flicking through the pages to find another way into the school. If only Harry would lend her the map... She sighed. "Fine," she muttered irately, "if I can't go back, then I don't want to remember." Shakily, and through furious tears, Hermione raised her wand to her temple, and whispered; "Obliviate." Nothing happened. Shocked, she tried again. And again, and again. Still, nothing happened, except a slight headache, which she cured with asprin.

The latch on her back door shut, and Hermione knew she was finally alone. Her parents would be gone to dinner for a few hours, so she was left in peace. Her wand rested on her bedside table, and she picked it up ungracefully. "Obliviate." She whispered, her hand steady. Deliberately, she drew her wand around her head, and repeated the spell. "Why won't you work?" Her voice was hoarse and strained, and yet Hermione still had the courage to shout. "_Why the hell won't you work?!" _She panted heavily, and threw her wand out of her window, sobbing loudly. She flung herself onto her perfectly made bed, and hugged her pillow. "Somebody help me." She cried out to thin air, perfectly aware that nobody could hear her. "Please?" A wooshing noise came from somewhere, and Hermione assumed that it was the wind. Getting up clumsily, she slammed the window shut. She slumped back onto her bed, and wiped her nose on the back of her white sleeve. "Please..." She repeated desperately, "help me." Ten mintues of silence passed, and Crookshanks had moved from her bed, to onto Hermione's chair. A loud bang came from downstairs, and Hermione heard hushed cursing. Suddenly forgetting her sadness, she equipped her wand, and tiptoed down her wooden staircase. "Who- Who's there?" She asked confidently, though her snotty nose made her stutter.  
"Ah!" A man's voice came from the bathroom. "Sorry!" Hermione heard two doors unlock, and a tall man, with dark hair and a pointed chin came out of the toilet. He held up a piece of paper that said 'Royal Bathroom Inspector' to Hermione's face.  
"Who are you?" Hermione held her wand to the man's stomach area, and glared at him angrily.  
The man, however, did not glare back. In fact, he barely looked at Hermione's agressive stance and armed wand. Instead, her peered at her face, making Hermione recoil slightly. "Doctor." He said slowly, not looking at Hermione, more inspecting her.  
"Doctor who, exactly?" She asked, catching his eyes by jerking her head up suddenly. "And why are you dressed so strangely?" She added, looking distastefully at the man's beige tweed jacket, red braces and bow tie, and smart suit shoes.  
"Bow ties are cool!" The Doctor protested, looking slightly insulted. Hermione sniffed loudly, making a trail of soggy snot shoot back up it. Her eyes were sore and red, and her voice still croaked when she spoke. "A better question," the man stepped sideways, into the hallway, "who are _you_?" The man looked desperately at Hermione, as if coaxing a certain answer out of her.  
"Hermione Jean Granger." Hermione muttered, as if rehearsed. She relaxed her wand arm slightly, and flicked on a light with her other. "Why were you in my bathroom?" She tried peering around the Doctor, but he moved to obstruct her view.  
"I told you, I'm inspecting. Very neat. Well done." The Doctor finally noticed Hermione's wand, and jumped. "Ah!"  
Hermione, as if to test the man, turned her wand to a plant pot on a stand, and made it levitate. Her eyes focused, and a little lively light flickered in them. And with one sudden memory, the plant pot shattered on the floor, and she was shaking again. "Is that all?" The Doctor was sat on Hermione's cream sofa, looking rather unimpressed. "_Hover?" _Tone unimpressed, his eyes were otherwise. In fact, the Doctor seemed to hiding a very large grin. "I had a dog that could do that." Hermione stifled a derisive snort, and peered into the bathroom.  
"Why is there a police box in my bathroom?" Hermione said, monotoned.  
"Ah, well, now I'm sure you'd love me to lie and tell you it's not there, but you just smashed a plant pot with a stick, so I shan't anger you further." The Doctor stood up, and walked into the kitchen. The 'further' made Hermione think, though her thoughts were interrupted. "Where am I, exactly?"  
"Earth." Hermione said.  
The Doctor looked as though he finally got the answer he was looking for. "You're curious, Hermione. I did not say what planet, and I did not travel through the Void. Most people would tell me what street I was in, and send me on my way. Why not you?" The Doctor strode up to Hermione, and peered into her reddening eyes. Hermione, as if to answer the Doctor, waved her wand.  
"Scrougify." The kitchen was clean. Her eyes were locked firmly with the Doctor's, and she was not scared. "That," she pointed to the bathroom, "was not there when my parent's left a half hour ago, and now it is. You jump out and expect me to think you're sane?"  
"You just made a plant pot shatter!" The Doctor's voice was high and defensive. "The question is, why am I here?"  
"Why _are _you here?" Hermione put her hands on her hips, and sighed.  
"You called me." The Doctor began to inspect the now clean kitchen.  
"I..." Hermione's forehead furrowed, and cogs began to whir. "Are you a wizard?"  
"Are you?"  
"I asked first."  
"Men just before."  
"I..." Hermione pouted angrily. "I am a witch. Why I'm telling you this, I don't know, but you're lucky enough to get away from this with your memory intact. I can't perform a simple memory charm." She sat on the sofa and sighed.  
"Sensing a back story here." The Doctor smiled comfortingly.  
"I can't go back to Hogwarts- too dangerous, my parents say- and if I can't remember, then I won't know what I'm missing." Hermione stroked her wand lovingly  
"What would you be missing?" The Doctor looked sincere for the first time since he walked out of the Granger's bathroom.  
"Witches and wizards and magical beasts." She sighed. "Goblins and ghosts and magical beasts." She tightened her pony tail and frowned. "Ron... Harry... Ginny... Ron..." Her voice trailed off as she imagined her boyfriend's arms wrapped around her fondly.  
"Ron." The Doctor smiled. "Tell me about Ron, Hermione."  
"Oh..." She blushed, making the blotches match the rest of her face. "He's tall and strong and handsome. He's got amazing ginger hair..." She trailed off once more, and sighed sadly.  
"Ginger?" The Doctor too, looked sadly. impulsively, he hugged Hermione tightly. Donna, Rory, Amy... He sniffled loudly, and took Hermione's free hand. "Come along, Granger!" He stopped, and turned to Hermione, "that won't do. Um... Herm. I shall call you Herm."  
"Where are you taking me?" Hermione demanded, "this is my house!" She was being pulled along quickly, and the Doctor ignored her until they were both squished in the bathroom.  
"Now, Herm, welcome to my snog box!" He beamed proudly, then turned to Hermione, realising the problem of this phrase. "Well... A friend used to call it that. Never mind!" He grabbed Hermione's hand, and pushed her through the TARDIS doors.  
"Merlin's beard..." Hermione's mouth dropped, but the grip on her wand only tightened. "But I was in my bathroom! Is this a portkey?"  
"What's a portkey? They sound fantastic!" The Doctor pointed to a car seat for Hermione to sit on. He then walked to his storage compartment in the control room, ducked into it, and pulled out 'P' for Pond. Opening the trunk, he began to look sad. When he finally found the small crimson engagement box for Hermione to look at, he began to shake with silent tears. In one movement, he stood up, threw the box to Hermione and faced away from her. "I've met countless people." He began, "and if there's one thing I've learnt," he breathed shakily, "it's that nothing is ever truly forgotten." Looking at the control panel, he smiled at the Galifrean word for 'Rose'. "You, Hermione Jean Granger, of Hogwarts school, dating Ron, are so _very _smart. So _very _important. You mentioned a memory charm, yes? Do you know _why _you can't perform it?" Hermione shook her head. "Your thoughts are too powerful to forget. I know how that feels." He motioned to the box. "I've met countless people, Hermione, and some travel with me. I met a girl. Donna Noble. The sassiest person you'll ever come across. If she remembers me, or anything I've done, her head'll explode. She was ginger." He smiled vaguely, "I met a couple- Amy Pond and Rory Williams. Bright ginger hair and oh so in love. He proposed to her, and they got married. I was erased from existence, Hermione, and her thoughts alone brought me back. Magic!" He grinned, "I took back their engagement ring. She forgot him once. He died- complicated," he added at Hermione's confused face, "and that ring brought him back." He walked next to Hermione, "now, Miss Granger. Deep down, you don't want to forget. Because forgetting magic and Hogwarts means forgetting Ron and Harry and Ginny and everyone else you'll leave behind. I can tell, Hermione. You love that world. You love Ron, and you'll do anything to stay with him, yes?" Hermione nodded. "Now, where does he live? I do love a ginger. Van Gough was ginger. Lovely man. Troubled, but oh so lovely. And Shakespeare! He was fabulous! Saved the world with words, that man, and I'd have it no other way!" The Doctor looked shocked at Hermione's still face. "Shakespeare _is _dead, right?"  
"Yes."  
"Why aren't you shocked?"  
"I had a time turner a few years ago."  
"You're no fun."  
"Stay here, I need to go do something." Hermione walked slowly out of the TARDIS after putting down Rory's box, and placed her wand in her pocket. Coming out of the bathroom, she wiped her eyes, and locked the door behind her.  
"Hermione? Dinner's ready." Her mother called. Creeping as quietly as she could, she took out her wand once more, and lifted it behind her mother and father's heads, which were both by the kitchen sink. "Obliviate." It rolled off her tongue and slid down her wand, silent silver sparks shot out and collided with the Granger's heads. Pictures of Hermione became blank, and even books of hers disappeared from the shelves. Like a shadow, Hermione went back, unlocked the bathroom door, and slid into the TARDIS. "Thank you for staying." She murmured, and sat back down. "The Burrow." She touched the floor of the TARDIS, and Apparated the whole thing to the building site of the Burrow.  
"We've moved." The Doctor grunted.  
"I know." Hermione took the Doctor's hand and led him outside. "Ronald?" Hermione called. The midday sun was beating down on the field. Footsteps came thundering out of the Burrow's small shed, and Ron looked dazzled.  
"What's that? Who's he? How did you get here? Why are you holding his hand?" Ron shot out questions, and stared at the Doctor.  
"Hello," the Doctor said, unlinking Hermione's hand, and embracing Ron, "I'm the Doctor."


	2. The Wand, The Witch and The TARDIS

"And what the bloody hell is that?" Ron said, his voice hostile, and his index finger pointing to the now emerged TARDIS.  
"That's a TARDIS!" The Doctor smiled happily and bounced on the balls of his feet.  
"A what?" Ron looked over to Hermione.  
"A TARDIS!" Hermione smiled too, moving to make a triangle.  
"A what?!" Ron looked stunned, and asked the Doctor.  
"A TARDIS!" The Doctor looked proudly at his machine.  
"That's not even a real word!" Ron's eyes were wide, and his face was pale with shock. "The bloody hell..." He muttered, walking away back into the six by six shed. Hermione tugged the Doctor's sleeve, and made him follow.  
"Come on!" She hissed, as the Doctor struggled to keep up. Hermione and the Doctor reached the wood door of the shed, Hermione grinning like a maniac. Hermione gave the password; "Sacrifice." The door swung open, and the Doctor was filled with the sight of a not very small shed.  
"It's..." The Doctor stumbled backwards, and pulled out his screwdriver.  
"What's that?" Hermione asked curiously.  
"Sonic screwdriver. Like your wand but... uh... sonic." The Doctor looked feebly at his screwdriver, then back up to the shed. "It's bigger on the inside!" He gaped, stumbling forwards carefully. "Only I can do that..." He slapped his face once, and cast a longing look over to his TARDIS.  
"Don't be silly! It's just a charm." Hermione nodded her head matter-of-a-factly, and swept into the shed. The shed itself had an orange glow from the permanent fire on the far wall, and a constant smell of baking as Mrs Weasley always had something on the go. On the inside of the door, was a trapdoor, which led down to the bedrooms. By the fire, was a crimson sofa, with matching bean bags scattered across the hearth. On the mantlepiece were eight waving pictures; one of the all the Weasley children, and one of Harry and Hermione together. Other photos were littered across the room, but most of those stood still. On one side of the fireplace was a large, wooden bookshelf, containing all sorts of books- from children books to fact. A french window was on the other side of the stone kitchen, where an abundance of owls hooted. Crookshanks slept lazily on the pine dining table in the centre of the shed. Mrs Weasley was washing up, humming to herself, and Mr Weasley was helping himself to a piping hot cupcake. Ron had slouched in, and thrown himself on the sofa next to Harry, who were discussing Quidditch. Percy was flicking through a copy of the Daily Prophet, and George was sniffing sadly over a large photo album. Ginny bounded up to see the Doctor and Hermione like an untrained puppy. "Hello, Ginny." Hermione hugged Ginny briefly. None of the Weasley's, aside Ron, expected Hermione to be at the Burrow so soon, and all turned around inquisitively. Harry was the only one, however, to query the strange man scanning a bluebird.  
"Hello." Harry nodded politely, and then smiled at Hermione nervously, "is he our new defense the dark arts teacher? I'm sure one of them wore a bow tie..."  
"Ah!" The Doctor's green screwdriver began flashing and making a painfully high pitched noise as he moved closer to Harry. He ran the screwdriver up and down him like a medical scanner, then stepped away, examining the results. "Interesting. This is very interesting..." He suddenly noticed everyone staring at him rather impolitely, and straightened up. He extended his hand to everyone in turn. "I'm the Doctor." He shook Harry's hand.  
"Harry Potter." Harry nodded.  
"I'm the Doctor!" The Doctor shook Ginny's hand more gracefully than Harry's.  
Ginny blushed slightly, "Ginny Weasley." She stepped back and let Ron stand up.  
"I can see this is going to take a while... If they're ginger, they're a Weasley. Except Crookshanks- the cat- he's Mione's." He stood next to his girlfriend protectively, and rested his hand on her far shoulder.  
"Ah, okay, so Ma and Pa are over there, all brothers- and sisters, sorry Ginny." The Doctor stepped into the shed fully, and collapsed onto a beanbag. "Interesting." He scanned a moving photo and frowned, then Harry again, then Ginny and the rest of the Weasley's in turn. "Not...human..." The Doctor rolled this around on his tongue slowly, "not Time Lord either. Quite... Puzzling." He spun and started speaking to Hermione, "isn't it, Hermione?"  
"What is?" Hermione was flicking through a Herbology text book, thumbing through until she was interrupted. She looked up, and made a small dismissive noise from the back of her throat. "We're not _human, _strictly speaking." Hermione took her wand out of pocket and offered it to the Doctor, "we're magical." Harry, Ron and Hermione all sat cross-legged on the floor opposite the Doctor, who looked rather like a child's story teller.  
"Doctor?" Harry cautioned, "who are you?"  
"I'm fire and ice and rage." The Doctor stared into the fire and sighed. "You people puzzle me." He looked over at Ginny, who had just sat on Harry's right, and held his hand loosely. "Ginger... Ginger... Ginger... all ginger!" The Doctor grinned absent mindedly, his thoughts drifting off into the realm of his memories; Solving mysteries with Donna and Agatha Cristie, running through Leadworth with Amy Pond, and crowning Rory Williams the Last centurion... He sighed loudly, making even himself jump. He clapped, standing up. "So! You're not my people or human, and you say you're magic..." The Doctor strode around the room, shaking Mr and Mrs Weasley's hands as he stomped past, "you're puzzling." He waltzed over to Hermione and examined her once more. "'The Brightest Witch of her Age...' They call you that?"  
"Y-Yes..." Hermione nodded nervously, shocked by the personal space invasion.  
"And you can't perform a memory charm." The Doctor raised one eye brow.  
"I...Uh..." Hermione looked over at Ron, who simply shrugged. "Not on myself, no."  
"Try it on me." The Doctor's face leveled out to a truthful expression.  
"What?" Hermione's eyes widened obviously, and her hands wrung.  
"Perform it on me! It's a simple concept, Hermione. Swish and flick, eh?" The Doctor smiled, and closed his eyes readily.  
"I..." Hermione looked from the Doctor to Ron, who looked indifferent, to Harry, who's forehead was furrowed deeply, to Ginny, who was waiting eagerly. Then finally back to the Doctor, who's eyes were tightly shut. Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket slowly, her hand shaking terribly. "Uh..." She breathed deeply, clinging onto her wand with sheer life. Her wand was resting a few centimetres in front of the Doctor's forehead, just above his almost non-existant eyebrows. Silver sparks blew gracefully from Hermione's ivy-carved wand, and swirled around the Doctor's head, engulfing him in shimmer. "Obliviate."


	3. The Watch, The Scar and The Offer

The Doctor blinked slowly, his large eyes darting around the room. He delved into his pockets, and pulled out a fob watch, which he palmed fondly. The glow from the hearth beat over the Doctor's face warmly, making his skin tinge orange. He had the incomprehensible look of a boy who didn't know what he'd forgotten. However, before Harry, Hermione and the Ginger Clan had chance to inspect the Doctor fully, Mrs Weasley came bustling over, her face blistered and red. "Do we have a guest for dinner," she eyed the Doctor disgracefully, "or is he leaving?"  
"No-"  
"Yes-"  
Hermione and Ron jumped in at the same time, and started to glare at each other. Harry gingerly whispered into Mrs Weasley's ear, "we did just erase his memory." Mrs Weasley nodded deliberately, "maybe he should stay for a while."  
"That's fine, Harry, dear." Mrs Weasley grinned, "I just needed to know." She trotted away back into the kitchen, and put enough food for the Doctor in the oven. She could be heard muttering to herself and Arthur, scrubbing and stirring away.  
"Doctor?" Hermione edged closer to the Doctor, who was slyly opening his fob watch.  
"Hm?" The Doctor's dreamy eyes focused on Hermione once more. "Ah yes," he said finally, "Hermione." He smiled sweetly, and collapsed, once more, onto the sofa. He held up the fob watch for Hermione to see clearly, and explained. "It's a Time Lord's memories. Your spell, luckily might I add, transferred my memories to the watch as you cast it, meaning that, as soon as I opened it, I could remember again." He stood up, and clasped his hands on her strong shoulders, "it worked." He repeated louder, "it worked."  
"See Mione?" Ron, shifted his girlfriend so the Doctor's hands fell off of her shoulders and grinned. "I believed in you."  
"Actually, you said that she couldn't perform the Vanishing Charm the other day..." Ginny looked at Harry, who nodded reluctantly.  
"Shut up Ginny!" Ron scowled evilly, and turned to Hermione, "only because you were sick! Not because you're incapable."  
"It's ok." Hermione lied fakely, and sat next to the Doctor. "But why on you?" She asked, "what's so special about you?"  
"Me?" The Doctor retorted. "I'm just a madman with a box, Dear Herm."  
"Herm?" Ron looked at the Doctor as if he had a bad smell under his nose.  
"Uh... better than Granger." Hermione shrugged. "But a madman with a box? Interesting."  
"Now, why can't you perform the spell? You cleaned your kitchen and shattered a plant pot with an orchid in." The Doctor paced, scanning everything that lived. And then, he scanned Harry. "Wait-" He looked startled. "I've seen this before." He stared at Harry's scar for just a moment, then looked back to his sonic screwdriver. "I had a friend- a companion, really- Sarah Jane Smith. She never had children, but she adopted one. Luke Smith, she named him. She was the most amazing mother, Harry. She gave her son a gift, for even long after she'd gone from this world." He peered through Harry's circled rimmed glasses, and deep into his fierce green eyes. "Where's your mother now, Harry?" The Doctor dared.  
"She died when I was a baby." Harry looked at his feet as Ginny rubbed his back sympathetically.  
"The gift of Mother's Love." The Doctor lifted Harry's head up by his chin, and smiled sympathetically. "My mother died too, Harry. My whole race did." He lifted up his fob watch, "and _this _is what safeguards my memories of them. Because I've tried to forget. Oh I have." He chuckled softly, and moved in front of Hermione, who was watching intently. "Your friends, Herm, have given you their love so you will never forget them. Be grateful you cannot perform that spell." The Doctor grinned. "So, Hermione, do you still want to forget?" He turned Hermione around so she could face her adopted family, who were all welling up, and smiling supportively. "Your parent's will remember, Herm. They don't want you to forget; they want you to be safe."  
"That- thank you all." Hermione engulfed Harry and Ron into a close hug, then stepped away.  
"But you're not safe. There are things that will feed off of this safeguard." He held out his hand for Hermione; this time offering himself. "Will you stop them with me?"  
"O-of course." Hermione took his hand, and smiled bravely.


	4. The Feast, The Lost Boy and The Truth

"Good." The Doctor grasped Hermione's hand, and looked upon her thankfully. The first to admit it, the Doctor was very lonely. He sniffed the air loudly, and smiled excitedly, "dinner, I think?" He bustled into the dining area, and wormed his way onto a wooden chair, which had been summoned by Mr Weasley. Ginny sat one side of him, Harry sat the other. Hermione and the rest of the Weasley children filed into chairs, as Mr and Mrs Weasley loaded up the table with a whole host of plates, full and empty, as well as cutlery and cups full of drink.  
"I hope you eat _normal _food, Mr Doctor." Mrs Weasley said politely as she started serving roast chicken up to her fledglings'.  
"Well, if it smells like it tastes, then I'll love it," the Doctor began putting sprouts on his plate slowly, then added, " but it's just Doctor, if you don't mind. I'm not a fan of formalities."  
"Okay then, Doctor." Mrs Weasley added potatoes to each near-empty plate. Mr Weasley leaned towards the Doctor from the other end of the table, and observed him munching cheerily on a whole broccoli. When all the plates were filled, Percy was the first to disrupt the mutually agreed silence.  
"Doctor," he began, resting his fork and knife on the side of his plate, and reaching for his glass of pumpkin juice. "Who are you working for?"  
"Me? I'm just a-"  
"Madman with a box," Percy peered over his horn rimmed glasses accusingly, "we know."  
"Don't be rude, Percy." Ginny snapped, glaring at her brother, who, in truth, she had never quite gotten along with fully.  
"He's a Time Lord." Ron glared at Percy through a mouthful of chicken breast. The Doctor looked shocked as he stopped gnawing on a bone.  
"Quite right, Ron." He drained his cup of juice and smiled proudly at Hermione. "Well done, Herm." Hermione blushed, and continued cutting up Ron's potatoes whilst he chomped on another helping of chicken. "I come from another galaxy, but wow, you humans do look like us!"  
"You said your species died..." Harry murmured quietly.  
Ginny stomped on his foot, and whispered warningly, "that's a bit rude, Harry. We're at the dinner table for Merlin's sake."  
"It's ok, Ginny." The Doctor cut up his chicken, and talked between mouthfuls. "There was a war; long, terrible and bloody. I fought on the front lines. They all died." The Doctor looked down mournfully. "I was their death sentence. I thought there was another," he watched as the entire table ogled him, "but alas, he too is gone." The light from his eyes returned in an instant, as if this was a popular dinner time tale. "But you," he glanced around the table, catching everyone's eye purposefully, "you all have the same battle scarred look on your face as I've long forgotten." Mrs Weasley filled his cup of water, then set about refilling everyone else's. "So tell me." The Doctor spoke with such confidence that did not need to demand the information he wished; as Hermione had already experienced, the Doctor had an air of trustworthiness, and so, in turn, everyone helped retell the tale of the Great Wizarding Wars.  
"I was a baby," Harry said after a minute of intriguing silence, "when I was attacked."  
"Harry, you don't have to tell anyone anything." Mrs Weasley looked at the Doctor gingerly, but Harry simply waved her off, "no. If Hermione trusts him, then so do I."  
"Me too." The Weasley children muttered unanimously, nodding their heads slighty.  
"He's not a Muggle, dear." Arthur Weasley spoke softly, and stroked the back of Molly's hand. And so, each telling the Doctor a piece of the puzzle, the story was slowly retold. Each person telling of their involvement in great detail, and the only time the rhythmic story telling was broken, was when George spoke. "I...had a twin." He whispered, looking sorrowful. "His name is Fred." A fire kindled inside him, but died suddenly as he realised his mistake. "Was. He was called Fred."  
"I wondered if I was seeing double." The Doctor said gently; if he had adopted another tone, this was considered rude, but the Doctor, instead, spoke softly, with tears in his own eyes. "I suppose you miss him."  
"A fair assumption." George looked up slowly, trying to smile lightheartedly, but failed. "He was... killed." He pointed to his missing ear, "I lost two parts of me that day, and I'm glad to say it was me and not him." He looked down again, avoiding Molly's motherly gaze. "He wouldn't want to feel this pain." His voice was abnormally loud and out of tone, as if an invisible hand had grasped his throat tightly, letting only squeaks and whimpers out. He shook his head, and Ginny continued his part of the story graciously and without complaint. Her likeness to George was so striking that it was almost frightening to know that she, too, could look so heartbroken. Finally, after another good half an hour of talking solemnly, Harry uttered, "and he fell to the floor, a mere man." The Doctor was transfixed with Harry, and he mouthed the last sentence subtly, at last finishing his main meal. The light from the windows was no longer a bright white, but instead a deep purple, filling the shed with darkness. The only light was the constant fire, bathing the room in a heart warming orange. The meal was long since warm, and as the final clutters of cutlery were dying down, Crookshanks jumped onto Hermione's lap. Ginny was obviously tired, and she had nestled her head onto Harry's chest, and appeared to be drifting off. Molly and Arthur were cleaning up, and Hermione and Percy were making coffee's and plating up a cupcake each. George looked slightly happier, and was sat in an armchair by the fire after excusing himself. Ron and the Doctor were still talking.  
"So what are these monsters?" Ron peered at the Doctor cautiously, "or are they aliens?"  
"Aliens, and nasty ones." The Doctor grimaced, "they're called Memreaters- or rather Memory Eaters, only shortened." He shook his head slowly, "they're on Earth, as far as I can tell. I was summoned here by Herm, and quite clearly, they're attracted to her, however, I'm now debating whether there are more targets here than I first thought." He nodded his thanks at the still wary Percy, and sipped his hot coffee.  
"What do you mean?" Ron, instead of coffee, had a hot chocolate, and was licking the cream off of the top.  
"Well," his voice dropped to a whisper that was only audible to Ron, and then the Doctor continued, "George." His head inclined slightly to the hearth, where George was nibbling on a cake absent mindedly.  
"I'm taking her downstairs." Harry nodded at Ginny silently, and picked her up. After moving the plant on the trap door, he descended down to the basement, and shut the door after him, still clutching Ginny in his arms.  
"We're going down too." Molly and Arthur smiled politely after finishing their after dinner delights, and then Molly turned to the Doctor. "There's a spare room down there for you, if you'd like it. Don't go zooming off just yet," she smiled wider, "we haven't heard about you yet."  
"That'd be splendid, Molly." The Doctor stood up and shook the two Weasley's hands vigorously, and nodded his thanks as he sat back down next to Ron. George went down the hatch as well, merely grunting as he went. Hermione was washing up when Ron thought it was safe to talk again.  
"What do you mean, George?" Ron finished his hot chocolate, and began devouring his cake.  
"Well," The Doctor said purposefully, "out of anyone I've ever met, he seems to be the most..." He racked his brain for the right word, "lost."  
"Lost?" Ron had moved down a seat, and spread his legs on his old chair.  
"He seems so distracted, or is that because a stranger is in the nest?" The Doctor turned his nose up at the bitterness of his coffee, and produced a sachet of brown sugar from his jacket pocket, and poured it in.  
"No, you're right." Ron yawned, catching Hermione's attention. "Are you okay Mione?"  
Hermione shook her head, as if waking herself up from a daydream and smiled widely, "yes, thank you. Not plotting anything, are you?"  
"No!"  
"Of course!" Ron and the Doctor chuckled at the same time, and Hermione simply turned back to the pile of dished she'd offered to clean. "So," the Doctor continued, "does he want to forget?"  
"Would you?" Ron retorted, a little too quickly.  
"Hermione did." The Doctor said sharply. "And she's as brave as he is."  
"You have a point." Ron wiped his nose on his sleeve.  
"Memreaters are usually harmless; feeding off the energy someone uses to try to forget, they cause no physical pain."  
"Physical?"  
"I don't know how much of Hermione you saw over the holidays, but she seemed quite distressed when I found her."  
"You mean broke in."  
"Rescued."  
"Well no-"  
"Either way," the Doctor said loudly, cutting Ron off, "you can plainly see that she was emotionally pained. I doubt she's the kind of person to hurt herself, but I am going to check."  
"Don't bother," Ron rolled his eyes, "she's too smart for that."  
"Do not think of it as a matter of intelligence, Ron, even the smartest of us need to cope." The Doctor said firmly, silencing Ron. "You can agree, however, that she is saddened by what she saw and her parent's reluctance to let her come back to this world. So there, they do not attack or kill, only feed. Barely even parasites, they merely prevent the host to stop forgetting."  
"And you think they might like George's energy?" Ron seemed to be picking this up quite quickly.  
"They may, however I could only trace them on Hermione."  
"All that about mother's love?"  
"I don't want to scare them, but I need to get rid of them. If they want to forget, then the Memreaters shouldn't interfere." The Doctor frowned, "it's strange, though. They usually go for little things like forgetting when you fell over in front of the entire class, or when you spilt tea over your mother-in-law. Why something this big?" He looked at Ron apologetically, "I'm sorry Ron, but I have to know why. I'm going to have to observe both Hermione and George for at least another day before I can get rid of them."  
"Just..." Ron glanced over at Hermione, who was dancing to Dusty Springfield, and sighed emotionally. "Just don't hurt her."  
"I won't." The Doctor promised, "not if I can help it."  
"Ok..." Ron nodded, satisfied, and stood up. "I'm off." He turned fully to Hermione, and spoke loudly, making her jump. "I'm going to bed, are you coming?"  
"In a minute!" Hermione chirped, and continued dancing. Ron nodded his goodbyes to the Doctor, and climbed down the hatch. It was now nearing midnight, and the shed grew cold.  
"I can finish that." The Doctor stepped beside Hermione.  
"If you're sure?" Hermione's hair was still up and scruffy, but now her painted nails were chipped, and her hands were wrinkled from the soapy water.  
"Yes, go to bed, Herm. We've got a big day ahead of us!" The Doctor grasped Hermione's shoulder, and directed her to the trap door, the plant was still beside it.  
"Why," she looked at the ragged man, "what's tomorrow?"  
"Tomorrow is our next big adventure!" He grinned, so excitedly it was almost scary, "have you ever flown a spaceship?"  
"I rode a dragon..." Hermione said matter-of-a-factly.  
"You're no fun." The Doctor pouted and watched Hermione disappear down to the basement. "Goodnight, Hermione."  
"Goodnight Doctor." Hermione said sleepily, and shut the door behind her. The Doctor finished scrubbing the dishes and, at seven minutes past midnight, put down the dishcloth, and wandered down to the basement. Bathed with the same healthy glow as the upstairs, the bedroom area was welcoming. The Doctor popped into the bathroom, and brushed his teeth with the spare toothbrush with his name- or title, if you prefer- on. He combed his hair with a large, red brush, and drifted into the spare room. He took out the contents of his pockets, and dumped them carelessly onto a desk. He pondered, for only a moment, then stole away his sonic screwdriver, crept back out of the room, and popped his head around Hermione and Ginny's door. From afar, he scanned Hermione silently.  
"Stronger..." He said dreamily, he too, finally getting weary of the day. "How much does she want to forget?" He slunk back to his bedroom, flung himself on the spare bed, curled up, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	5. The Sleep, The Drain and The Request

"Morning!" Mrs Weasley came bustling into the Doctor's room with a tray full of bacon and eggs. She shifted some of the Doctor's belongings to one side, and lay the tray on the desk. She left before she could spot the Doctor rising out of bed, still fully dressed. The Doctor moaned lazily, and began devouring the plate of food. The sonic screwdriver was tucked in the bed next to him, like a child sleeps with a bear. He ran his hands through his messy, chestnut hair subconsciously, and found himself shocked by the fact that it was, according to the Muggle clock on the wall, nine o'clock Earth Time, and people were awake.  
"But... it's a Saturday." His forehead crinkled, and he finally finished his breakfast. Harry was walking past the wide-open door, and answered him.  
"We're at the Weasley's; with seven kids, Molly and Arthur always get up early!" Harry strolled past, a towel around his waist. The Doctor took a second to assess Harry's behind, then shrugged, and pocketed his screwdriver. He waltzed outside, quite rested, and bumped into Ginny, who was yawning loudly. She stopped the Doctor, seemingly to talk to him.  
"Did mum wake you up with food too?" She asked groggily.  
"Yes," the Doctor's eyes were wide and awake, whereas Ginny's were squinted and sleepy. "It was enjoyable- your mother is a good cook." He added.  
"That she is. She had seven of us before she gave up. Honestly, you'd think it was fun- having kids!" She tried to smile enthusiastically, but failed, because as soon as she opened her mouth again, she yawned. "Sorry."  
"Don't be silly, you should be asleep."  
"I went to bed early," Ginny said modestly, "it's Hermione that should be asleep."  
"Why?"  
"Well, she crept in with Ron last night. She gets terrible nightmares, you see, nothing...you know."  
"Oh..."  
"And she was up at the crack of dawn to help mum with the cooking. She's so restless lately."  
"And Ron, did he mind?"  
"No, he likes her company. Harry woke up at about three in the morning and heard her creep in, apparently Ron pretended to be asleep, but as soon as Hermione drifted off, he opened his eyes and just... watched her. It's sweet, really." Ginny took a hair band from her wrist, and began plaiting her hair.  
"He clearly thinks highly of her." The Doctor's heart fluttered as he thought of Rose- of River.  
"He does. He really does hate her." Ginny smiled fondly.  
"Hate? Surely they're... but... don't they love each other?" The Doctor's forehead furrowed.  
"Oh yes! But you've got to hate someone to be able to stick by them like Ron and Hermione have." Ginny shrugged, and her eyes opened more now, as Harry walked past the Doctor and she, still only wearing a towel. "Excuse me..." She hurried after Harry, and chased him into her room by tickling him. The Doctor smiled like an old grandfather at the two young lovers as they tittered away, quite clearly off to do something they perhaps shouldn't. The Doctor, suddenly remembering his tray, went back into the spare room, and walked out holding it, hoping to get upstairs unscathed. Luckily, he was able to, and was quite alright with greeting the remaining clan above ground.  
"Hello, Doctor!" Arthur shoved a hot cup of tea into the Doctor's hands after he put the breakfast tray down. "I like your bow tie!"  
"Thank you Arthur!" The Doctor sipped the tea, and spoke once again to Father Weasley, "you look like my friend's father... Brian, his name was. Lovely fella." Arthur looked quite confused, but sat down at the table, and drank his tea quietly. After everyone had woken up properly, showered, and eaten breakfast, the Doctor ushered Hermione out into the garden to speak. He, of course, wore the same tweed-like jacket with leather elbow pads, red bow tie and matching braces, plain navy trousers, and smart brown shoes. His hair was still an untidy, muddy colour, parted down one side and swept over, and his chin and nose dominated his easily missable face. Hermione, however, looked worse than usual; her face, usually rosy and soulful, was pale and lifeless, though she was reliving her mourning period. Her brown bushy hair was pulled taut into a bun, shortening her face, and tightening her features. Her eyes held a hint of grey through the puddle-like brown, and her eyelashes were bare and short. Her pink lips blended in with her almost white face and, despite the summer warmth, she was shivering slightly as the breeze blew over her. Hermione had a pastel pink cardigan pulled over her shoulders, and a black top underneath, drowning her already fading colour out. Her deep blue jeans gave her the illusion of being taller, but standing next to the Doctor, she was still quite short. The Doctor led Hermione over to a wooden bench by the chicken coop, and bade her to sit.  
"Hermione," he began, resting on the handmade bench, "is there something wrong?"  
Hermione's hands shook in her lap, as she turned her poised face to the Doctor. "No." She lied obviously, and sniffed.  
"Ginny said that you were up early. You need to rest." The Doctor's voice was one of an old father, once again. "Are you certain that there is nothing wrong?"  
"No." She repeated, and started to stare at the chickens, which were pecking away peacefully at the grass. "I'm just a little tired."  
"How did you sleep?" The Doctor asked casually, he too, looking at the chickens.  
"Quite well. I went to bed just before you and Ron did, and I went to sleep with him." She looked flustered, "I had a nightmare, I'm sure Ginny told you."  
"She did, and nor would I mind otherwise." The Doctor exhaled through his nose, as if suppressing a laugh at a funeral, "you don't have to put a balloon out."  
"We're waiting til marriage." Hermione said quickly, making an excuse.  
"But carry on. You went in with Ron?" The Doctor coaxed her to continue.  
"Yes," Hermione's breaths were separated and deep, as if she was forbidding herself sleep. "And then I got up quite early. I can't remember how early, but it was dark, and I started cleaning up and making sure everything was ready for Mrs Weasley to begin her morning routine."  
"Routine?" The Doctor asked, merely curious to what this was.  
"Well, she'd get up and have a cup of tea, then make one for Arthur, and wake him up for work- though he didn't seem to go in today, I assume he's not busy- then wake the eldest- Percy then George. By which time, most of us are usually awake, and just too lazy to move." She scowled, as if telling off those who were, indeed, too lazy to move. "She'd make breakfast and send it down on trays to those who aren't already awake- Ginny, Harry and the guests- you."  
"Interesting." The Doctor nodded as Hermione spoke, taking it all in. "After you finished cleaning?"  
"I didn't finish until Mrs Weasley awoke, a few hours later. I'd had a cup of coffee to wake myself up, as I was still tired..." Hermione's voice trailed into nothing.  
"Yet you were still tired." The Doctor finished for her.  
"And I still am. I had a nap before anyone else came up- apart from Arthur- and I'm still so tired." Hermione frowned, as if ashamed of her tired nature.  
"Well," the Doctor stood up, putting his hand on Hermione's shoulder, "I'm going to talk to someone in the Shed, then we're off. Do you mind packing an overnight bag and waiting at the TARDIS in about an hour? Ideally just us and the other person." He added, so sure Hermione was going to invite Ron or Harry. Hermione nodded, "off you go Herm."


	6. The Question, The Scan, The Answer

The Doctor prowled back into the Shed, and surveyed the area like an assassin does for his mark. Finally, after his eyes had finished darting, they fell upon George Weasley, who was sat at the table, staring into space. The Doctor, immediately, came and sat next to him. "Hello." George didn't look up when the Doctor spoke, even though it was obvious that he was talking to George. "We haven't had chance to speak." The Doctor held out his hand for George to shake. "I'm the Doctor."  
George ignored the hand, but looked slightly more aware, "George Weasley." He looked sad.  
"George, do you want to forget?" The Doctor went straight to the point, quite clear that he needed an answer.  
George spoke openly. "I thought, at first, yes. I tried to Obliviate, but nothing came. I was left to myself after he- Fred- died. But now..." He, for the first time since he had arrived, looked squarely at the Doctor, "I don't think I could forget. It's not right. It's easy, but wrong. Sometimes we have to chose between what is right, and what's easy, and I firmly believe that I made the right choice."  
The Doctor looked stunned, definitely shocked by the answer he was given. He did not address the answer, it appeared, at first, but instead took out his screwdriver. "May I scan you? It won't hurt."  
George nodded slowly, and said dreamily, "I don't tend to feel pain anymore, Doctor." The Doctor scanned George, and examined his results quickly.  
"George, you're playing host to a whole gaggle of Memreaters." He said plainly. The Doctor refused to feel remorse for George.  
"Ok." George shrugged.  
"Go pack an over night bag. Meet me at the TARDIS- the blue box- in a half hour." Quietly, the Doctor got up and left.


	7. She Packs

The bedroom that Hermione shared with Ginny was often empty during the day, as Molly would refrain from letting people downstairs after they'd gotten dressed. Now, as she'd trusted, the room was empty. Why the Doctor had asked her to pack a bag, she couldn't guess, but Hermione trusted the Doctor, and that was all the reassurance she needed. Hermione found a small leather satchel, and began filling it with items. She first found a set of plain white underwear, and slipped it in, as well as tights and socks. Then, after about ten minutes of hard searching, she found a clean pair of jeans and I navy shirt and jumper, and threw them in the bag. She packed her wand, obviously, and an Alice In Wonderland book to read- it had been one of her favourites when she was young enough to have bedtime stories read to her by her father. She slipped in her Gryffindor scarf that Ron had given her, and fastened the bag shut. She, with uniform speed, clambered up the hatch to the Shed, opened the latch on the door to go outside, and slid silently behind the TARDIS to wait for the Doctor.


	8. He Packs

George's bedroom was half empty. It was, in fact, littered with merchandise he sold with his twin, discarded dirty clothes and general rubbish that had overflown his bin. But that was not the point- it was _half _empty. Half of the clutter was missing. Fred's clutter was missing. He stroked his missing ear sadly as he stared longingly at a picture of him and his lost twin. George was not, in all actuality, lost. Fred was lost wandering in a place he did not belong. He belonged with his other half- not his wife or husband- but his twin. There was a smashed mirror on the floor, where George would sometimes, if his moods let him, would do his hair and admire his handsome reflection. But today, when he was supposed to be packing a bag, he did not admire himself in the mirror, but indeed spoke. "H-hello." He murmured after a moment of silent hesitation. Doubting his reflection would ever speak back, he sighed loudly. He took out a black rucksack and began piling his things into it. He'd done this many times before; empty threats of running away often led to this as a child, but as George grew, the threats were not so empty, and the bags had to be removed from his room by Molly for his own safety. He put in a pair of boxers, which he was sure belonged to Fred; a red t-shirt and a pair of jeans also went into the rucksack. He summoned his toothbrush (and the screams of Ginny, who had only just gotten out of the shower for the third time) and put it in the front pocket. He crawled under his bed and pulled out a maroon jumper to put wear for the journey because, he had guessed, the TARDIS wasn't just for decoration. When he turned the jumper the right way around, he noticed the lettering. "Mum wouldn't throw this away..." He muttered to thin air as he traced the golden letter 'F' that was sewn on the front. He put the jumper carefully on his bed, and turned to the mirror once more. "Why did you have to go and die?" He asked quietly, "that wasn't very nice." His voice grew steadier as his eyes drew briefly away from the mirror, and fell upon a laughing picture of the Weasley Twins below their shop. He looked back at his reflection. "I'm glad it was you, really. I'd never, not in a thousand years, not for anything, would want you to feel this pain." He took the bag in one arm and rose. "I'm useless, at home. At work, no better. Everyone knows I've lost you. I lost my smile. I don't laugh anymore." His eyes grew hot with tears that refused to fall, "and every time I brush my teeth or do my hair or shine my shoes or glance in a puddle- I see you." He threw his arms up in the air, a few rogue tears breaking the dam, "and even now I hear you. I hear your voice, but it is not answering the one question I want to ask!" George's face was now red with a dangerous mixture of anger and sadness, and his fists were clenched. "Are you okay up there, Freddie?!" He shouted, looking from the ceiling to the mirror, hoping, praying, for an answer. He collapsed in desperation onto the bed, and clutched Fred's jumper. "Are you...okay?" His voice was frail and shaky, and even more so as he inhaled his brother's scent. He traced the 'F' once more and sighed, glaring at the mirror, daring it to speak. "Always the better twin, eh? Still hanging on after all this time? I'd have gone, Freddie." He looked softer, his eyes full with tears, and exhaled, "I'm glad you're still around." Shaking himself suddenly, and realising what he was meant to be doing, he shouldered his bag and ran clumsily out to the TARDIS, where in fact, he wasn't late, but a few minutes early. He opened up easily to Hermione, and found comfort in the fact that she too knew the pain of needing to forget.


	9. The Kiss, The Button, The University

"Hermione!" Ron, encumbered with a large, Muggle rucksack, ran up to his girlfriend, waving his arms frantically. Hermione turned around, shocked, and tightened her grip on her wand for a moment. George didn't seem so shocked to see his brother, and muttered '_told you_' into Hermione's ear, receiving glares from both Ron and Hermione. Ron's face was flushed, and he appeared to have been sweating not too long ago.  
"Ronald, what are you doing here?!" Hermione's voice was higher than usual, and Ron flinched when she spoke. If George had the energy, he would have mocked Hermione, because it wasn't a case of not daring, but not having anyone to laugh with.  
"I'm coming with you!" Ron's voice was exceptionally deep compared to Hermione's criticism's, and his blush deepened further.  
"The Doctor said-" Hermione began, before being interrupted.  
"I don't _actually _care what the bloody Doctor said!" Ron glared at the TARDIS briefly. "You're my girlfriend! I don't want you running around with god knows who and my brother! How's that gonna make me feel? Did you ever even consider my feelings, Hermione? He's an attractive, mysterious, older man with a...travelling thing! What am I?!" Ron breathed heavily, his shoulders heaving up and down with each loud breath. Hermione simply smiled exhaustedly, and pecked Ron on the cheek to calm him down.  
"You're Ron Weasley." Her hand lingered around his before the Doctor appeared from the TARDIS.  
"Ron," he said, looking all too smug, "I thought you'd come." He turned to George and Hermione, "all aboard!" He spun around, and walked into the TARDIS. Much to his disappointment, the two Weasley's did not look all that shocked at the inside size of the vehicle, though that really wouldn't surprise anybody. He indicated to the car seats for the trio to put their bags on, and they all did so. "Hermione, I need you to pull this lever when, and only when, I say so. George, push that red button there- no! NO! The _other _red button- no... redder than that... less red- there we go! Ron... uh... hold on." Ron looked slightly disgruntled at that, put gripped onto the railings with sheer life. The Doctor scanned Hermione and plugged his screwdriver into the screen, and signalled Hermione to pull. Then for George to push his button. The Doctor spun around the console of the TARDIS, and started pulling levers and pressing buttons and twisting and turning all sorts of contraptions to steer the TARDIS. The overpowering, ominous noise came booming from nowhere in particular, leaving Ron more shocked than ever. Barely a minute passed before the TARDIS landed with a jolt. The Doctor grabbed George and Hermione's hand, leaving Ron trailing behind. His face screwed up, Ron dragged his feet. His face oddly blank, George let himself be dragged away. Her face wide and inquisitive, Hermione ran beside the Doctor as he swung the TARDIS doors open. "Still in England!" The Doctor said after he appeared to taste the air. "Same time frame..." He let go of the two hands he held and paced in a circle. "But where..." Hermione started scanning the area and sniffed. She sat down and ran her hands over the pavement, but shook her head.  
"That thing didn't even cause a minor quake." She stood up and squared the Doctor, "you better have a good reason for letting Ron along." Her voice was firm and even, and her eyes stared into the depth's of the Doctor's soul. Ron, meanwhile, stood clinging to the TARDIS's door handles with his head shaking.  
"What...the...bloody...hell." He panted, as if he'd ran a race.  
"What?" George asked, moving in next to him.  
"We're in Cambridge!" Ron squealed. "I read about it in Dad's Muggle books! Hermione, you _must _know it!" Hermione nodded vaguely. "That's the university!" Ron pointed to a tall, stone building next to back alley where the TARDIS had landed. The glass windows were oddly opaque from where they were standing, but nonetheless beautiful.  
"Off we go then Herm!" The Doctor took Hermione's hand, and Ron's, this time, but George was intrigued enough to run beside them. They made their way to the double doors, the Doctor's screwdriver in his mouth, bleeping away, until the sound of the screwdriver grew high pitched. The Memreaters were in Cambridge.


	10. The Possession, and The Farewell

Two great wooden flung open to reveal a rather odd foursome. A tall, ginger man stood on the far right. He was barely into his twenties, but beneath his hazelnut eyes lay tragedy beyond thought. On the far left was another ginger fellow. He wasn't very old, late teens, one would guess, and he looked similar to the tall man. He was, however, an inch or so taller. His features were longer, and his hand was wrapped around the only girl in the entourage. She had bushy, brown hair, and was considerably smaller than her boyfriend. She had dark eyes, and a small amount of freckles over her nose. These three carried wands in their hands, which emitted a small, white light out of the tip. The last man, the middle man, looked puzzled, and was sniffing the air. He wore a brown tweed jacket, and a red bow tie. He held a sonic screwdriver in his hand, and was holding the other out to usher the three behind him. After the vast, stone room was scanned sufficiently, the Doctor nodded, and the three wizards milled around the room, examining things as they went. The Doctor, along with Ron, investigated a wooden table. "I think..." The Doctor scanned, "the whole place is full of them. Literally buzzing- I _think,_" the Doctor looked at Ron very closely, "that we are in their hunting grounds."  
"Their- _what_?!" Ron blinked slowly, then shrugged.  
"Right!" The Doctor turned to George and Hermione, and clapped once, "remember good things, people! No bad thoughts! We don't need any bad memories today, no sir-ee!" He turned around quickly, and marched to the other end of the room, where a large wooden throne sat. The throne appeared to be empty, but still the Doctor still scrutinized it. "By the Shadow Proclamation, you are required to talk to me!" He glared, but no response. "Memreaters, you are praying on innocent people for the good of your own!" Suddenly, George started to twitch violently, and an unearthly, booming voice replaced his. George shunted up to the throne, and leant on it.  
"We are."  
"Why?"  
"We are hungry." The voice was rasping, and George was trying to fight it.  
"You are living?" The Doctor's eyebrows rose.  
"Yes."  
"And you are praying on Hermione?" The Doctor pointed to Hermione.  
"Yes."  
"Stop." The start of his word dragged out like a snake, then he finally spat out 'top', making Ron and Hermione shiver. Hermione didn't look frightened, and even moved close to the Doctor. Ron, however, hung back, but had his wand ready and waiting.  
"No." George's head twitched again. "We will take her."  
Ron turned red, and leapt forward. "No you bloody won't!" His wand was aimed firmly at George, whose eyes widened greatly. "Not my girlfriend!"  
"Ronald, no!" Hermione's voice was watery, and dangerously close to bursting. "That's George! They've... possessed him or something! He's still our brother!"  
"_Our_?"  
"Yes, our, you idiot!" Hermione panted, and her eyes pleaded for Ron to move back. He did.  
"Why do you want her?" The Doctor moved closer still, silently praying that they wouldn't hurt George.  
George appeared to float. "With her, we are stronger than we have been before. She wants to leave behind much, except..." George's possessed mouth appeared to turn the words over on his tongue, almost painfully, before speaking, "_Ronald._" Ron's head shot to Hermione, but he was too late. Small tears trickled down her blushing face.  
"If you're living," Hermione muttered, her legs buckling from the sheer amount of energy that the Memreaters were taking, "then you can evolve, yes?"  
George did not answer.  
Hermione leant on Ron, still not looking at him properly, and repeated, not raising her voice in an almost Molly Weasley manner. "_yes?!_"  
George turned to the Doctor, "the girl is right."  
The Doctor clenched his fist over the sonic screwdriver. "_The Girl _is called Hermione! She's your flaming host!"  
"You are right." George appeared to almost glow. He was now a foot above the throne, which was raised upon a cold, stone platform.  
"Then evolve." Hermione offered an ultimatum, barely takeable.  
"You are but a girl, what can you do?" George's eyes now brimmed with tears, deeply disturbed by what he was saying.  
Hermione straightened up, and grabbed her wand. "I am not 'just a girl', thank you." Her voice was trembling with anger, as were her hands, "and you're investing a lot of time into making me remember." She pointed her wand at a broken mirror on the far wall. "I _will _do it."  
"No." George's voice was his own, this time. "Hermione, no."  
"Let me speak to them!" Hermione demanded.  
"We are here." The Memreaters were back.  
"Yes," Hermione rolled her eyes, "I know."  
"How can we evolve?"  
"You feed off the energy I radiate when I do not forget?"  
George merely nodded.  
"How about you feed of his," she pointed to George forcefully, "energy. His happiness. Infuse in him, like you have in me, but make him forget the pain. He wants to forget the sadness. He has a lot of happy thoughts. Feed off _them_."  
"Interesting." The Doctor muttered, not batting an eye at what Hermione was proposing.  
"George," Hermione shouted, willing to get through, "do you consent?!"  
George, not the possessed George, nodded. "I-" his voice was breaking through, as he struggled to get free of the Memreaters. "I do!"  
"Doctor, is it safe?" Ron asked, his hand was grasping Hermione's to prevent her from toppling over again.  
"What?" The Doctor looked up, distracted. "Yes! Yes, no, it's brilliant!" He scanned George one last time, then nodded. "Memreaters," he bellowed, "listen up! You hurt this lad, and I _will _know! Permission from all parties is required for this. Do you consent?!"  
"Yes." The Memreater's were back, but the voice was slightly softer.  
"Release him, then enter through the Hippocampus." The Doctor ordered.  
"That's the memory bit." Hermione muttered into Ron's ear. George collapsed into a heap of ginger a few feet from where the trio were stood. His face was drained of all colour, as if he'd just been in exhausting pain. His eyes, too, were paler, and he flinched when the Doctor crouched next to him.  
"They-" George began.  
"It's okay." Hermione spoke before the Doctor could, and saw to comforting George.  
"Will it hurt?" Asked George, his hands shook slightly as he wiped cold sweat off of his brow.  
"Yes." The Doctor lied. He scanned Hermione once more, and concluded that she was clear of the Memreaters. He scanned George, and smiled softly as, according to the scan, he was slowly being filled with the now neutral Memreaters.  
"I'm okay..." George tried to stand up, but fell again. "Bastard." He cursed his own weakness.  
"It's alright, George." Hermione turned to her boyfriend, who was watching George intently, as if guarding him. "Shall we Apparate?"  
"What about him?" Ron jerked a thumb at the Doctor. "Do you think you can find the Burrow?" He asked loudly.  
"Hm? Yes. Yes, I think so." The Doctor nodded.  
"Okay," Hermione wiped George's face clean of sweat once more, and stood up. She walked over to the Doctor, and began whispering. "You're not coming back, are you?"  
"No." The Doctor said plainly.  
Hermione sighed, but refused to even feel the mellow prick of a tear. "Will you visit?"  
"I believe so." The Doctor put his arm around Hermione. "Even if it's just to have another nice meal, Herm, I'll try. I can't promise, but I'll try."  
"I'll take it." Hermione pecked the Doctor on the cheek, and went back over to George and Ron. She clasped a hand each, and smiled over to the Doctor. With a pang on regret, Hermione felt her navel being pulled by a large fishing hook. They landed at the Burrow, right where the TARDIS landed the day before. Mrs Weasley, upon hearing the _crack_, came running out. She swept up her one-eared son, and left Hermione and Ron to themselves.  
"He kept our bags." Ron frowned. "  
"I think he'll drop them off, don't you?" Hermione hugged Ron, her face against his chest, his heart beating into her ear.


	11. The Epilogue

Epilogue.

The Doctor stroked the TARDIS console fondly, and set course for the Burrow. He glanced over at the two back packs and leather satchel on the seat. Lights flashed and, in under two minutes, the Doctor and TARDIS had landed. "I wish I could do that cool thing Herm did..." He scooped up George's bag first, put it on his back, and crept into the Shed. He unlocked the door deftly, and snuck down the already unlocked hatch to the basement. It was eerily quiet, but he was used to that. He found George's room easily, and tiptoed into it. On the far wall, was an empty bed, perfectly preserved, with not a speck of dust or a sheet out of place. On the wall nearest the door, George slept. He seemed to smiling in his sleep. Both of his hands were being pressed by his face, and his shoulders sunk and rose softly. More carefree than the George the Doctor had known, but identical nonetheless. He slipped the bag onto a discarded chair, snuck one last look at the sleeping boy, and walked out lightly. He closed the door behind him, being careful not to make a clicking noise with the wood. He swanned back into the TARDIS, and snatched up Hermione's bag. He didn't, this time, go into the room she shared with Ginny. Instead, he left her bag on the wooden bench outside the Shed. He put it down gently, being careful not to make too much noise. However, when he turned around, he saw Hermione there. He jumped slightly, put made no noise.  
"You came back." She stated; her tone was not happy, like reuniting with an old friend, just plain and blatant.  
"I'm just dropping your bags off." The Doctor detected ice in her voice, and decided to match it.  
"Hm." Hermione grunted, picked up her bag, and began to walk off, before turning around again. "Please come and visit us some time soon, though. Harry and Ginny want to say goodbye. So does Molly." She looked down at his sonic screwdriver, which was poking out of his pocket, "and Arthur wants to play with that."  
"Soon, dear Herm." The Doctor smiled, and quickly hugged Hermione to cut her off. "Now get back to bed, it's late." Hermione didn't reply, but just sulked her way back to bed. In truth, she'd wanted the Doctor to stay for another night and morning, just to thank him, and speak to him some more. Maybe even persuade him to stay for another night after that, and after that... But Hermione couldn't force the words to spill out of her mouth when she left him that night, and regretted it til she saw him next.  
In the TARDIS, the Doctor was searching for something. He delved into his archive boxes (P for Pond). "Ah ha!" He cried, holding up a maroon box like Gollum with the Ring. He unzipped the front of Ron's rucksack, and slipped the little box in, smiling smugly to himself. He zipped it back up, and waltzed out of the TARDIS, proud of his little plan.  
Hermione wasn't in the upstairs as the Doctor crept through the Shed; in fact, it was deserted. He made a quick scan of the cat, just for fun, and climbed back down the trapdoor. By this time, most of the inhabitants had moved around; Ginny had been hiding Harry for most of the night, and Hermione was sat in the bathroom reading by wand-light. That left Ron on his own. The door to his room was left ajar, and Ron lay snoring on his bed. The Doctor was confident that he wouldn't wake. He slung the bag on the floor beside his bed, and grinned. Even in his sleep, Ron Weasley looked slightly anxious about what was going on. He gripped his bed sheets tightly, and breathed heavier than his brother, who was a light sleeper in comparison. The Doctor, once again, walked back to the TARDIS. "Goodbye, Herm, Harry and Weasley's." He got in the TARDIS, closed the door, and zoomed off to save planets and civilizations alike.

Four years after the Doctor visited, Ron was visiting Shell Cottage. Unpacking his rucksack lazily, he discovered something he hadn't before. It was a rouge box. He opened it curiously, and inside was a silver ring, with a single diamond inside it. Before he could contemplate the dozen questions that popped into his mind, he heard a loud, ominous breaking noise from outside the cottage. With a small crash, something landed. Ron poked his head out of the window, and saw a large, blue box underneath it. Ancient and brand new, the Doctor was back.


	12. Author's notes & dedications

**Hello! **

To those that have read this, I thank you.

My name's Alice, and I have about seven billion mental illnesses. It's _crazy _at times. (See what I did there? Because I'm crazy? Haha, oh I should be a comedian.) I don't know _where _the idea for this came from, or where the lame aliens came from. I know there's a lot missing, but it shall all be answered in the upcoming sequel- 'They're no good to me'. Hopefully you'll read that, if you've liked this one just as much as I've liked writing it!

Thank you, again, if you've gotten this far. I hope, if you're a fan of Harry Potter (or Dragon Age, actually) that you'll read my other works. They're slightly (she uses the word 'slightly' lightly) darker than this- I wanted younger fans to be able to enjoy the rare crossover piece! So if you're a fan of Dramione fluff, or Drarry depression- read on!

Please remember to review (even if it's like two words, if you've got time, I implore you to review!) and also to Follow/Favourite! Especially if you're looking forward to the sequel! Remember- the more reviews, the more likely I'll make this a trilogy!

Also- if you're a fan of Zombie/Romance books drop me a line here:

aliceyvie .uk

As I can email you the first 20 A4 pages of my book! I hope you enjoy that too!

And please, if you _don't _like something I've written- if something doesn't seem right etc- then mention that too! I don't mind criticism, as long as it's that, not just slander. You, the reader, are the biggest ego boost I'll ever have, and the biggest teacher.

**Dedicated to Tempany Alisha May-**

**for being the best, most supportive friend I could have ever asked for. I love you Tempuppy! (I DIDN'T MENTION THE SEQUEL DID I? HUH? NOPE I DID NOT. ENJOY THAT ONE!) **

**Also to Kate Palmer-**

**Not an avid Doctor Who watcher, but an amazing friend who still reads my work.**

**And Josh-**

**Because lately, you've been my muse. (****_and if you bring this up I will leave you) x_**


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